


Dragon Age Prompts

by WiseMage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Multi, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-13 09:23:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11181792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiseMage/pseuds/WiseMage
Summary: A collection of prompts or short stories that I've posted to Tumblr (Wise-Mage.tumblr.com) featuring my OC's from the Dragon Age games.





	1. Candles

**AN:** This prompt was 'Candles' for Pavelyan - from Elidoo :)

Dorian & Finn get creative. Plus, an appearance by Josephine...

 

* * *

 

 

Finn lived for these moments where he and Dorian could lose themselves, just for a moment, and be a normal pair of fools in love. 

Well, as _normal_ as an Inquisitor with an all-powerful anchor, and a runaway Tevinter Altus could possibly be, of course. 

His eyes raked over Dorian, his delicious russet skin practically glowing in the soft candlelight as he hovered over the warrior.

_Beautiful, painfully so._

Dorian had covered their quarters in decadent, expensive-looking red candles, certainly nothing like the stubby cream ones the Inquisition usually supplied. A subdued fragrance of cinnamon was permeating the air.

The mage quirked his eyebrow cockily, his lips twitching with his obvious attempts to suppress a smile. He was trying to be seductive, after all. 

Finn flexed his fingers, his hands slowly but surely going numb where Dorian had tied the silk ribbon around his wrists just a little _too_ tightly.

Finn usually liked being in control, but the wicked glint in Dorian's grey eyes when he relayed his little fantasy had swiftly knocked all sense out of the warrior.

"Stay _still_ , lest I set fire to you," Dorian scolded as Finn wiggled his hips beneath him. 

"Sorry, it's a little unnerving you staring at me like that with fire in your hand." 

Dorian adjusted his position, straddling Finn's thighs and pinning him to the mattress, "I appreciate that, Amatus, but that's kind of the whole point," He sighed, "Now, shut up and stay _still_." 

Finn tensed as Dorian tilted the red candle, the bright wax dripping onto his chest, a delicious burn licking at his skin. He hissed, surprised at how  _good_ it felt; that perfect sensation between pleasure and pain.  

“Well?”

Finn nodded, "Again." 

Dorian leaned forward to kiss Finn hungrily, passion rolling off him in waves. He pulled away and licked his lips, a deep growl rumbling in his chest.

Dorian writhed in Finn's lap as he allowed another splash to fall onto his abdomen, following it with a light burst of ice as his fingertips ghosted over the scorched skin. The sudden contrast in temperatures made Finn's breath catch in his throat, writhing beneath Dorian's form. Dorian paused, waiting until he held still, then continued to draw patterns with the wax lower, _lower_ down his torso, stopping to admire the sight of the deep red accenting Finn's tanned skin with a smile.

Finn pulled fitfully at the flimsy ribbons around his wrists, desperate to reach out to touch, grab, _take_ Dorian. An uncomfortable ache had bloomed between his legs, his hips instinctively rising to meet Dorian's in an attempt to sate it.

The mage poured another hot stream of wax onto him, the liquid pooling and drying in a line that traveled from sternum to _dangerously_ close to the waistline of his low-hung, loose cotton trousers.

Finn arched his back, rising from the mattress as the wax continued it's cycle of drip, scald, dry, a breathy moan falling from his lips. He could see Dorian's eyes greedily darting over his body, unsure where to look. Finn had no doubt it wouldn't be much longer until Dorian grew impatient and was begging him to...

A loud series of knocks at the door made them both freeze in their tracks.

"Did you lock th---"

" _No_!" Dorian groaned, "Here," He blew out the candle and placed it on the nightstand, before reaching to release Finn from his restraints. 

The person outside the door was infuriatingly persistent, hammering at the wood relentlessly.

"Can't _you_ go?" Finn sighed, gesturing to the unsightly dried patches of wax on his bare chest, the skin beneath them angry. 

Dorian scrunched his nose, lips pursed as he looked down into his lap. 

He clearly enjoyed torturing Finn a little _too_ much, his trousers straining at the crotch a little too-obviously.

"Maker's breath," Finn groaned, "Fine. We _aren't_ done here, though," He smirked, licking his lips.  

_Skyhold had better be on fire..._

He rushed over to the door, opening it a crack to peek at whoever had so rudely interrupted them.

"Inquisitor! I must speak with Dorian _immediately_ ," Josephine huffed, ducking beneath his outstretched arm that had (poorly) attempted to block anyone from entering. 

She stopped, hands on hips as her pretty eyes flickered around the room, "The nerve! I... I can't _believe_ you!" She stomped her foot dramatically, rushing toward Dorian where he sat frozen on the bed. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger in his face, " _Carastian_ candles, Dorian. Maevaris sent them to _me_!" 

"Josephine I can ex--"

"No! First the _many_ bottles of wine, now this," She flung her arm out, gesturing wildly around the room, "And to waste them all at once! Do you know how hard they are to come by in these Maker-forsaken parts?" 

"I wouldn't call it a waste, personally," Dorian smirked, his eyes flitting to Finn, "The Inquisitor seems to have greatly benefited from my petty thievery."

 _Bastard._  

Josephine spun around, her eyes landing on Finn, who was attempting to hide his now-blotchy chest with awkwardly crossed arms. 

"Andraste preserve me," She sighed. 

Finn felt his cheeks growing hot and Josie smiled at him wickedly. She turned her attention back to Dorian, her expression hardening, "Give them back, _now_." 

Dorian rolled his eyes, huffing as he extinguished the candles with a flare of his hand, the fire roaring to life in the hearth in their place. Josephine started gathering the candles in her arms, taking as many as she could carry. 

"You'll have to pry these from my cold, dead hands," She warned.

Dorian snorted uncouthly, "That can be arranged, _Lady Montilyet_."

She reached for the remaining candle on the nightstand, Dorian quickly swatting her hand away, "That one stays," He growled, eyes narrow. 

Josephine gazed over at Finn, who was now _definitely_ losing whatever diplomatic argument she threw at him next, "Very well."

She gracefully walked toward the door, ruffled skirt swishing about her knees, "See you at the council in the morning, Inquisitor. I'm sure it'll be... _eventful_ ," She smirked, her eyes raking over his bare torso gratefully. She closed the door, musical laughter echoing down the stairwell.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little perspective on love, by Finn Trevelyan.

Our first look at each other, that first conversation, the first kiss.

The first declaration of love and the first fuck.

I begrudge those moments we lost. From the second we met we should have been together.

I’ve always been yours.

I’ll never forget it, any of it, every moment burned into my mind.

You picked stars from the sky and they flow through my veins.

I could never forget the feeling, and how perfect everything was… is.

We could be awake all night and talk until the next morning, the sun setting and rising around us.

We could lay down for an eternity and simply stare into each others eyes and the world would never be boring.

When I thought it couldn’t be any better, you whispered the three most beautiful words in my ear;

“I love you.”

It’s love. _Real_ love.

With a tear in your eye, you said that you never knew this feeling could exist before I tumbled my way into your world. You were never allowed, never thought yourself worthy.

It was the best moment of my life; when you finally realised you deserve it.

All of it.

We are so equal, you and me, but different at the same time.

We have something that other people just dream of, that they long for.

Found in a hopeless place, but absolutely full of hope.

They gossiped about us, and people wanted blood because we dared to fall in love.

They can burn, for all I care.

As we sit in another camp, on another mission, I watch you laugh over the fire, your grey eyes shining like silver. All I can think about is how fucking lucky I am.

I watch you as we fight, your grace as you tear our foes apart, pulling faces only you could make attractive, and in an instant your eyes lock onto mine.

You smile, they’re all dead and we’re alive.

 _So_ alive.

I reach for you and you softly whisper.

“ _Amatus._ ”

I savour the moment before the world starts turning again.


End file.
